


The Weight of Steel

by caras_galadhon (Galadriel)



Category: GoldenEye (1995), James Bond - All Media Types
Genre: Character Study, Dark, Internal Monologue, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-30
Updated: 2009-07-30
Packaged: 2017-11-08 18:12:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/446036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galadriel/pseuds/caras_galadhon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Alec doesn't think, he can't spare a thought for James.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Weight of Steel

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [铁之重](https://archiveofourown.org/works/665470) by [styx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/styx/pseuds/styx)



> Written for the [](http://seans-50.livejournal.com/profile)[**seans_50**](http://seans-50.livejournal.com/) [July Film Challenge](http://community.livejournal.com/seans_50/90792.html) using _Goldeneye_ as inspiration. Many thanks to [](http://savageseraph.livejournal.com/profile)[**savageseraph**](http://savageseraph.livejournal.com/) for the quick and dirty beta.

  


Alec has almost forgotten how James' skin tastes. _Almost_ , if he squeezes his eyes shut while bent over an arched back, buried balls-deep in the next dark-haired boy. _Almost_ , if he doesn't blink, doesn't breathe while a black-haired beauty wraps her legs around his hips one more time.

In the dark depths of the night, Alec considers the taste, the weight of steel on his tongue. Sometimes he catches himself laughing around the barrel, remembering the taste, the weight that used to rest there; all he'd ever had to do was brush his fingertips over James' fly to find himself on his knees, hair fisted and head yanked back, licking his lips, waiting for his prize.

Those nights, he puts gun back in holster, washes the tang of oil and powder out of his mouth and retires to his room with whomever answers his ring first.

Other nights, only the sun rising saves him from putting a bullet through his brain.

_He's sure James didn't shed a tear when he left Alec for dead._

When it isn't an endless parade of men and women tumbling through his bedroom, sweat, sex and spirits spilled across the sheets, Alec gambles. Money, drugs, flesh or morals; it doesn't matter much, as long as the act itself scrubs his memory clean, remakes him in his own image.

He doesn't order martinis anymore. Olives make his stomach churn. The sight of a well turned-out dinner jacket makes his skin prickle and perspire.

But there's a golden flicker in the corner of Alec's eye, and when he sees it there, reflected back in flat and mirrored surfaces, Alec smiles. England isn't the only lost love Alec is doing this for. No, he has James in his sights too.

And when James' time is finally up, Alec won't cry either. As long as James stays dead.


End file.
